


Interrogation Techniques

by deirdre_aithne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bloodplay, F/F, Knifeplay, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-06
Updated: 2011-03-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 13:51:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deirdre_aithne/pseuds/deirdre_aithne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellatrix knows just how to get the information she needs out of the filthy Mudblood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interrogation Techniques

“Get out, all of you,” Bellatrix hissed as she flung her arm out, releasing her grasp on Hermione's hair as she did and watching the young woman stumble and then fall to her knees in the centre of the room. Narcissa hesitated, opening her mouth to speak and falling silent as Lucius reached out to grab her arm. Aiming her wand at Hermione, Bellatrix's lip curled into a sneer as she stepped closer, listening for the door to settle closed behind her sister's family. “ _Crucio_ !”  
  
Hermione's teeth bit down sharply into her lower lip, drawing blood quickly as she struggled not to scream. As soon as the older witch released the curse, she doubled over on her knees, breathing heavily as she braced her arms against the cold marble of the flooring. “So, Potter's little Mudblood is a thief of more than magic, is she?” Bellatrix cooed as she circled around Hermione slowly. “ _Crucio!_ ”  
  
After already splitting her lip open, Hermione was hard pressed to stop the screams that begged to tear from her throat, finally giving in as the torture curse wrecked her body for several moments. Just as she felt the spasms of pain recede, Hermione's head was yanked back sharply as Bellatrix grasped a handful of her hair. The witch's sharp nails pressed painfully against her scalp, mixing with the sting of several curls tearing loose from her grasp. “ _How_  did you get into my vault?”  
  
“I didn't,” Hermione rasped, her throat cracking already from the effort of speaking. Jerking her arm, Bellatrix pulled her head back further, sending a shooting pain along Hermione's neck from the uncomfortable angle. “I swear!”  
  
“ _Liar_ !” Bellatrix's hand collided with Hermione's face with a sharp  _smack_  that echoed in the room and left behind a stinging blush in the younger woman's cheek. Keeping her hold on her captive's hair, Bellatrix reached into her robes and withdrew her silver dagger, pressing the flat of the blade against Hermione's other cheek and watching her shiver at its icy touch. “Tell me how you did it,” she whispered menacingly, tilting her wrist slightly to press the tip of the blade against Hermione's flesh as she slid it downward toward her jaw.  
  
“I didn't do anything,” Hermione whimpered, feeling tears of fear stinging her eyes as Bellatrix pressed the knife a little more firmly against her chin. She felt the skin there part slightly, and a thin trickle of warm blood wound slowly down along the column of her throat. “ _Please_ ,” she tried, unsure what she was pleading for. To her surprise, Bellatrix withdrew her hand from her hair. Before she could wonder what that meant for her, Hermione found herself being pushed roughly backward, her head colliding painfully with the marble flooring and causing spots to swim in her vision for a moment.  
  
“I'll just have to cut the truth from you,” Bellatrix murmured darkly, straddling Hermione's hips before she had the chance to try to move. “ _Immobulous_ ,” she added, before tucking her wand securely into the pocket of her robes. “Wouldn't want you getting away, now would we?” Smiling, Bellatrix bared her teeth to Hermione, seeming to delight in the shiver that rippled through her.  
  
After enduring the Cruciatus, Hermione thought the pressure of the knife against the flesh of her arm would be somewhat bearable. Instead, she felt the blade drag across her skin, realizing too late that the edges were serrated, preventing a clean, easy slice, and managing to elicit a fresh scream from her lips. “Yes, scream for me, little Mudblood,” Bellatrix crooned as she pulled the dagger over Hermione's arm again, her eyes focused on the makeshift canvas in delighted concentration.  
  
Despite the spell holding her immobile, Hermione tried to struggle away from the blade and the witch straddling her hips. The tears that had only just stung her eyes before began to flow from the corners in a steady stream as she tried and failed to refrain from screaming any more. Hermione couldn't focus on anything other than the pain, oblivious to the rhyme or reason behind each cut the older woman made on her arm until it came to a blissful end at last.  
  
“ _Finite_ ,” Bellatrix murmured, dipping her head slightly and trailing her tongue over one of the cuts on Hermione's arm. Jerking in surprise, Hermione attempted again to wrench the limb away, but Bellatrix only dug her nails into her arm, keeping her pinned securely down as her tongue traced the lines of blood left behind by the dagger's blade. When Hermione tried to squirm away again, Bellatrix shifted her weight slightly, sitting back a bit to keep the younger witch's hips pinned down.  
  
As she did, Hermione stilled, feeling flesh press against her bare stomach where her jeans had ridden down slightly during her rough treatment earlier. There was a thatch of curls and a distinct wetness that brushed against her skin, only briefly before Bellatrix seemed to adjust her position to keep from touching her again. It was enough to catch her off guard, drawing her attention away from the pain she had experienced and flipping some ancient and primal switch within her brain.  
  
The next dash of Bellatrix's tongue across her flesh, smearing the line of blood that had pooled within her wound, elicited a faint and trembling moan from Hermione's throat. She felt the older woman pause above her for a moment before the tongue traced another line nearer to her wrist. Unconsciously, Hermione's hips rolled upward slightly, and she heard Bellatrix's sharp intake of breath. Before she could realize the witch had straightened over her again, Hermione felt Bellatrix's hand land against her cheek again, startling her from her brief moment of arousal.  
  
“ _Filthy_  little Mudblood,” Bellatrix hissed in disgust, although there was a faint flicker of interest in her eyes as she looked down at Hermione. “Do you think this is a game? A little bit of foreplay, perhaps?” she asked, with no trace of humour in her tone as one hand curled around Hermione's throat and squeezed her pulse point firmly. Hermione gasped quietly, her eyes fluttering closed despite the dangerous position she was in. “Or maybe,” Bellatrix rasped, tightening her hold on Hermione's throat as she leaned down over her face, her dark curls falling around the two of them as she placed her lips near the younger woman's ear. “Maybe, you're just a little Mudblood  _whore_  who's unable to help herself.”  
  
Hermione shivered beneath her as Bellatrix traced the shell of her ear with the tip of her tongue. “Do I make your cunt wet, little magic stealer?” she asked sharply, the crude language sounding almost at home on her lips. To her surprise, Hermione rolled her hips again, attempting to grind against her, and Bellatrix cackled as she straightened again. “Oh, you are a fun little toy, aren't you? Soaking your little knickers when stronger people would have broken down beneath me...” Her tone was both satisfied and amused as Bellatrix spoke, her fingers flexing around Hermione's throat to ease and then tighten their grasp several times.  
  
“How did you get into my vault?” Bellatrix asked, her voice deceivingly calm as she trailed her hand downward along Hermione's throat, reaching for the neckline of the witch's sweater.  
  
“I didn't,” Hermione answered quietly, unable to stop herself from arching slightly into Bellatrix's touch, even as her cheeks flamed with shame. The older woman's seemingly gentle touch turned violent in an instant, her sharp nails scratching roughly over Hermione's chest. “Aah,” Hermione gasped, leaning her head back and wincing in pain, “W-we found the sword!”  
  
“ _Where_ ?”  
  
“ _I don't know_ ,” Hermione whimpered as Bellatrix slipped her fingers beneath the fabric of her sweater and pinched one of her nipples cruelly. “Harry found it,” she blurted, freezing as she realized what it was she'd said. Peeking her eyes open, she found Bellatrix grinning wickedly down at her, slowly removing her hand from beneath Hermione's sweater.  
  
“So it is Potter?” she murmured, grasping Hermione's jaw again and pulling her head up from the floor as she dipped her own down toward her. “Shall I reward you, little Mudblood, for telling me the truth?” Without giving Hermione any opportunity to try to backtrack from what she'd said, Bellatrix crushed their lips together with bruising force, pushing her tongue into the younger woman's mouth for a moment before the kiss became all nips and bites from Bellatrix's sharp teeth.


End file.
